Chapter Seven

"This is quite a feast you have here," Chase said, grabbing another stack of Pringles from the coffee table and shoveling them into his mouth.

Polly grinned and took a sip of merlot. “Without access to the stove or microwave, I can’t exactly get my Wolfgang Puck on. I’m sure you could whip up a steak on the fire or something…”

“I could, if you’d brought anything but girly food with you,” Chase said, puffing out his chest in exaggeration.

“I don’t hear you complaining while you eat my girly Pringles, cookies and merlot,” Polly shot back and Chase grinned.

“Yup, nice well rounded meal here,” Chase agreed. “Do you like to cook? You know, when you have an appliance to do so?”

“I do,” Polly said, “but with my schedule I didn’t have a lot of time for it, so usually our chef took care of most meals.”

Chase raised his hand. “Um, chef?”

Polly flushed, realizing how that sounded. “Well, it some ways it was more economical. I mean, I was never home, so it would mean eating out all the time, but if I could come home and eat a well prepared meal, then, you know, yay me.” She bit her lip, hoping that didn’t sound as Beverly Hills and she thought it did.

Chase raised an eyebrow. “Did you have a housekeeper too?”

Polly looked down at her glass. “I told you I work a lot. WORKED a lot, I should say…” she said softly, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

Chase tilted his head, studying her, noting her flush of humiliation and the obvious embarrassment she carried for her success – whatever it was.

“You were always stupidly studious in school – how come?” Chase asked, changing tack a bit.

“It was my ticket out,” Polly said quickly. “I didn’t want to spend my life here, not doing anything that mattered, not seeing the world. Deep freeze winters and solitude suits some people, but I needed sunshine and humanity around me.”

“So, you got your ticket out,” Chase said. “You graduated after I did, so I never knew what your plans were. Where did life take you, kitten?”

If any other man had called her kitten, she would have clawed his eyes out with her well manicured hands. But Chase had always called her that when they were kids – though she never knew why. To hear it now, it sounded like an endearment, rather than a derogatory term. She was telling herself the flush of pleasure was from the merlot, NOT from the sound of his voice murmuring her old nickname.

Polly sipped her merlot and settled back on the sofa. “I got a scholarship to UCLA, so I took off for California right after graduation. I decided early on that I really wanted to go into the law, so I went to USC Law School, joined a practice, and then co-founded one of my own. It’s been a whirlwind, but it’s been rewarding too. We live in Santa Monica now, doing corporate law.”

Chase hadn’t missed the mention of ‘we’. That meant he had to put the brakes on the thoughts flashing through his mind as Polly tousled her hair unconsciously and the firelight lit her face as though she was a bronze statue.

“We?” He asked, his voice as neutral as possible.

“Um.”

“Married?”

 

Polly sighed. “Complicated.”

“Well, either you have the marriage certificate, or you don’t, right?” Chase asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I have the marriage certificate,” Polly agreed. “But I’m not sure I’m going to keep it.”

Chase watched her for a long moment. “What are you running from, kitten? I know you didn’t come up here solely because of Carl Kershaw’s mother. What drove you here?”

Polly sighed again. “You don’t really want to hear the whole sordid tale, do you?”

“I really do,” Chase said, nabbing another Pringle.

“Okay, in summation: married Matthew, a man ten years older than me, when I was barely out of law school, lived the charmed life with the aforementioned chef and housekeeper, can afford any Jimmy Choos I want, am wildly successful, but find myself deeply unhappy lately, which probably isn’t helped by the fact my husband was embezzling from our firm and cheating on me at the same time. In fact, was USING the money he embezzled to cheat on me. Now find myself alone, afraid, pissed off, and in the north woods at the mercy of whatever wildlife is plotting my demise out there.”

Chase remained stock still on the sofa for several seconds, absorbing this staccato confession. He knew there were a number of profound, sympathetic things he could say, but he sensed that Polly didn’t want any of his platitudes. Instead, he settled on,” Dude, that sucks.”

Polly burst out laughing, making Chase smile at the loud explosion of sound. “Dude, it super sucks,” which made Chase laugh in return. 

“So what are you going to do now?” Chase asked as they both quieted. “Are you going to go back home and take him for all he’s worth? Go back to the firm or start over?”

Polly shook her head. “I don’t know. I was hoping the time up here would help me decide. About the only thing I’ve decided so far is that instead of practicing law for a few weeks, I’d much rather burrow down and write a novel. Then become wildly successful, quit my practice, and write full time while sitting on a beach in Bora Bora or something.”

“You’d get a sunburn, red,” Chase said, reaching over and twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “But I think a famous novelist sounds like a great fallback career.”

Polly smiled, liking the ease of his touch to her hair. “It does, doesn’t it? Who needs North & North when I can have Simon & Schuster?”

“North and North?” Chase asked.

“Our firm. Sorry, I should have explained. Matthew North is my husband – I’m Polly North now. Parker is the only Royston left.”

“You’re still a Royston, you just have a different name,” Chase said evenly. “That’s all.”

Polly sipped her merlot, and realized that Chase was right. She was still little Polly Royston, insecure, brainy, and hoping the cute boy would someday notice her.

She shook her head. She didn’t need a cute boy, she amended to herself, and certainly not THIS cute boy. She didn’t need any entanglements of the sort – she had enough of her plate with Matthew.

“We’re all caught up on my trials and tribulations,” Polly said, clearing her throat. “What about you? What’s the summation of your life story? Or should we talk about old times instead?”

Chase looked at her. “Do we have any old times?”

Polly glanced at him, felt her cheeks flush, and gulped down her merlot. If he didn’t remember, she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to remind him.

Ouch.

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